All For Me
by ChroniclesofaDragonfly
Summary: She would know if she was dating a serial killer, wouldn't she?


**All For Me**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any CSI-related thing, but that could change when I'm rich and famous...

**A/N:** This is my first FanFic, so it would really help if you crazy people could R&R!**  
**

**Chapter 1**

"I really think we should stop and talk about this... about us."

"So, you really don't want me to drop you off early to work anymore, is that it?"

"I don't think that we should see each other anymore..."

---

"I don't think we should see each other _anymore_," he whispered darkly, drawing his infamous double-edged dagger from the sheath on his belt. It glinted furiously in the low light, throwing reflections along the blood-spattered walls and bloodstained carpets. "I don't think we should see each other anymore," he repeated, twisting the knife between his fingers, watching the light bounce around the room, and finally resting in her dark, terrified eyes. She whimpered again as he purposefully strode forward, squatting down before his victim. Her brown eyes widened in horror as he lifted her bloody white shirt, tracing a large 'S' with the tip on her flat, perfectly tanned stomach. Her skin grew red, and the letter was scratched into her stomach before he stopped, examining his knife. "If she doesn't want to see me, I guess I'll just have to win her back," he murmured, peering into the frightened girl's eyes. "And you'll be my gift, right?" He frowned as the girl viciously shook her head, sending a few droplets spraying around her. "Wrong ANSWER!" He barked, gripping the knife, and plunged it into her body. She shrieked in pain, as loud as she could through her gag. Slowly, agonizingly, he carved the letter into her, cutting her organs as he did so. She twitched, her voice hoarse. The blood began to course over the 'S,' drowning it in its own bloody mess. She died with tears streaming down her face, horror and pain written all over her mangled body. At last he smiled, bending down and beginning the "real" work that his job demanded.

As he began, his thoughts strayed to the earlier conversation, the one that he had terrified the young woman with. She looked a lot like the person responsible for his actions. He swore he was stopping, going to get a real girlfriend, maybe settle down. His blood-spilling days were over, and he was in retirement, thanks to the help of his caring girl. She met him at a bar one day, and she had listened. Listened to all his problems and fears and worries. She listened, for once in his life, someone else knew what he was going through; the loneliness, the pain, she knew and she understood. He bought her a drink or two, and they promised to see each other again. And she had kept her promise, meeting him for dinner, breakfast, and sometimes even lunch. She was his anchor, his lifeline, his Sara.

So it killed him when the last thing she ever would say to him was, "I don't think we should see each other anymore." Yes, the night started out fine, he thought, but it ended with this, a mutilated girl that made his heart pound in excitement. He _was_ retired, once. But not now, and it was Sara Sidle's fault. He whistled as he worked, the tune of _All Around The Mulberry Bush_, and remembered the night.

_It started out fine..._

_--- _

"Sara, you said you wanted to talk?" he asked as he pulled ontothe road, honking his horn to avoid a collision. "Is everything ok at work?"

"It's fine, it's just not about work, that's all," Sara answered, staring blankly ahead at the rising moon, watching the cars zip by them. The sun was gone, leaving only darkness for her to work by.

"So, then why do you need to go to work early then?" he was confused, why wasn't she talking to him? She just stared out the damn window, and he couldn't figure the hell out why. It was started to piss him off. And they were almost to the crime lab, too. She wouldn't get off work until early morning, and he was already driving to work by then. He pulled onto the exit ramp for the lab.

"I just think we have some things to work out," she replied softly, waiting for the building to appear. It did, aglow with lights and lamps. He pulled the black SUV into the parking lot, slowing as he did so. "I really think we should stop and talk about this... about us." He felt his blood run cold. She wasn't... no, she couldn't...

"So, you really don't want me to drop you off early to work anymore, is that it?" He joked, hoping to God that was the reason. He pulled into the parking space, a dark, shaded parking spot. He parked next to no one else, hoping that he wouldn't have to... no, he couldn't think that... she couldn't...

"I don't think that we should see each other anymore..." she said, looking down at her hands, fiddling with her fingers. He jammed the car in park, and wheeled around to face her. He gaped at her, his Sara... she was leaving him? A mix of emotion whirled around him, as she mumbled on about work and her friends and her boss and her... Her boss, he thought, and suddenly, he was a furious ex, and he knew only one way to deal with his jealously.

She looked up as his quiet gasps fell silent, and her eyes knit in confusion. "Do you understand what I mean?" she asked softly, reaching for his hand. "I still... love you and everything, just..." she mumbled again, turning away from him.

"Sara," he said calmly, facing his... Sara... She turned back to him; trust in her dark brown eyes. He wrenched his arm back... and slapped her full in the face. Horror filled her eyes, and only now did her eyes shine with un-shed tears. "Get out of my car, bitch," he barked, reaching over her and opening the door. With his shove, she scrambled out of his big SUV, feeling the heat on her face. She stumbled backwards a step, and fell against the curb. His face twisted in anger as he slammed her door and his car roared away.

_Yes, it started as a good night..._

Sara Sidle scrambled backwards; landing on the curb as her boyfriend angrily drove his black SUV away. She _had_ just dumped him, yes, but...She felt her face with trembling hands, gently touching her bruised cheek, tasting the blood in her mouth. She swallowed thickly, wiping away the tears that had sneaked down her red face. A noise behind her made her whirl, and she found her boss, Grissom, standing above her, a _confused_ look on his face. He hesitated, then sat down beside her, offering tissues for her tears. Sara took them, not looking at her boss, and mumbled a thanks. Grissom surprised her, though. Ever so cautiously, he gently took her hand, and  
pulled her up. "I'm... I'm..." Sara started, feeling the warm salty tears streak down her cheeks. "Hush," he commanded, leading her towards the lamp, and silently examined her bruised cheek. "Let's clean you up, why don't we?" He asked kindly, and Sara nodded, letting him walk her to the lab, his hand resting on the small of her back.

"Thanks," the CSI sniffed. As she walked, her charm bracelet slipped from her wrist. It was a gift from her boyfriend, and she didn't notice its absence from her arm. As they reached the door, Grissom whispered in her ear, and held the door open for her. She laughed, and stepped inside. And from the shadows, he watched them. He watched her drop the bracelet, and once they were inside, he walk over to it. It shone up at him like a beacon in the dark of pain, and he bent to get it. She didn't love him, he thought, stuffing it inside his coat pocket. She didn't.


End file.
